


The Division of the Blanket

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff, Gen, Humour, M/M, Ratings: PG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-08
Updated: 2011-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-22 09:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Arthur have to share a bed, and Arthur claims most of the blankets. Inspired by <a href="http://img10.imageshack.us/img10/4916/blanketj.jpg">this image</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Division of the Blanket

**Author's Note:**

> Checked over by [i_know_its_0ver](http://i-know-its-0ver.livejournal.com) :)

“Right, Merlin, if we’re going to do this, we need to establish some ground rules.”

Merlin nodded, but kept his mouth shut -- who knew what minor offence it would take for a temperamental prince to change his mind.

“First of all, never speak of this with anyone.”

“Yes, sire.” Merlin muttered quietly.

Arthur fixed him with his most threatening glare. “Merlin, I mean it. You’re forbidden to mention this to  _anyone_.”

“I know!”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “Not even Gaius.”

Merlin nodded again, not looking at Arthur.

“ _Merlin_.”

“Alright, alright! I won’t tell Gaius.” Merlin scowled, scuffing his foot on the floor.

“That’s better.” Arthur turned back to the lonely bed in front of them. It was far smaller than the one he had back in Camelot, and he’d never had to share  _that_  before. “Secondly, you are not permitted to touch me -- under any circumstances.”

Merlin raised his eyebrow, and squeaked indignantly, “Why would I--?”

“I don’t know, Merlin.” Arthur drawled, rolling his eyes. “Don’t ask me to waste my time figuring out how your twisted mind works. Just give me your word that you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”

Merlin folded his arms, pouting. “I will if you will.”

Arthur shot him an irritated look, but accepted Merlin’s sulk as agreement to the terms.

Their eyes fell on the bed again. This was ridiculous. King Pelles should’ve expected the Crown Prince of Camelot to bring at least one servant on his visit, and organised rooms accordingly. It seemed he was so desperate to cram as many nobles as possible under one roof that comfort had become of little importance.

Honestly, Merlin wasn’t exactly pleased about sharing a room either, let alone a  _bed_ , but he was grateful the prat had abandoned his original plan, which involved sending Merlin to sleep with the horses in the stables. (All the best spots had been claimed by early arrivals).

“And that brings us to our final order of business,” Arthur announced loudly, clapping his hands together and grinning towards Merlin. It was one of those looks that always preceded a particularly unpleasant experience for Merlin, but one that Arthur usually thoroughly enjoyed.

Merlin sighed exasperatedly, resigned to his fate. “What’s that, sire?”

“The division of the blanket.”

Unimpressed, Merlin stared at Arthur’s smug grin. “Aren’t we taking half each?”

“Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, you really are an idiot.” Arthur chuckled, baring his teeth as his shoulders shook with laughter. “ _This_  is my part!” he threw his arms wide, indicating the left side of the bed, and most of the right. “And  _that_  is yours.” Arthur pointed at the sliver of blanket left on the far right.

“What?” Merlin gaped. “That’s puny!”

“Well, so are you, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Merlin pouted moodily again. “This isn’t fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, Merlin. If it was, you wouldn’t be a clumsy, gangly idiot. Now come on.” Before the words were out of his mouth, Arthur was lifting his shirt over his head and pulling off his boots. He let them fall carelessly to the floor, and strode over to ‘his’ side of the bed.

Merlin muttered under his breath as he hurried around behind Arthur, picking up the clothes left strewn across the floor. Looking up, Merlin saw that Arthur was reclining on the bed, engrossed in poking at a blister on his heel. Merlin pulled a disgusted face. “Do you have to do that on our bed?”

“ _The_  bed, Merlin.” Arthur didn’t even look up as he corrected him. “And if you’d rather sleep on the floor, that’s fine with me.” He continued examining the soles of his feet as Merlin threw the clothes onto a chair and pulled off his jacket.

It wasn’t until Merlin flopped down and yanked off his boots that Arthur acknowledged him. He cast a disdainful look across the bed, watching Merlin grapple silently with his blue shirt, which had tangled itself on his ears as he wrenched it over his head.

“Is that really necessary?” Arthur asked, still pulling a face as he waved towards Merlin’s bare torso.

“You took yours off!” Merlin was, as usual, overly defensive.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Fine, Merlin, whatever. As long as you stick to rule two, I don’t care.”

“What was rule two?”

Merlin took a pillow to the head for that.

“Damnit, Merlin! It was to keep your hands to yourself,” Arthur growled.

The look of anger in Arthur’s eyes was real, but Merlin still had trouble stifling a laugh. “Sorry, sire.”

“Just get in,” Arthur huffed, climbing under the blankets. “And give my pillow back!”

Merlin handed it over without a word and shuffled into bed. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, both staring at the empty fireplace, before Arthur muttered those magic words: “Goodnight, then.”

They both leaned out of bed at once, and blew out the candles next to them.

Lying there, in a bed far more comfortable than his own, Merlin finally closed his eyes. He was tired, and he sighed contentedly as he wriggled his toes beneath the warm blankets. 

That bliss didn’t last long. After a few minutes, a lazy grunt came from the other side of the bed, “Merlin, you’re on my side.”

“No I’m not!” Merlin groaned angrily.

“Yes, you are. Move your feet.” Arthur kicked them aside and sprawled out on his stomach.

Teetering dangerously on the edge of the mattress, Merlin sighed again, hoping this time he sounded suitably agitated. He was obviously unsuccessful, because no sooner had the sound left his lips, than Arthur was snoring.

“Brilliant,” Merlin said through gritted teeth. “That’s just  _brilliant_.”

He whispered Arthur’s name a few times in an attempt to wake him, and eventually resorted to faking a nasty coughing fit. When none of this made the slightest difference, Merlin decided that if he wasn’t going to get any sleep, he might as well be lying comfortably. He pushed Arthur’s bicep, gently at first, and then with increasing force, and wriggled into the free space he’d created.

It wasn’t long before Merlin’s smug satisfaction was replaced by something close to mortification, because, all of a sudden,  _Arthur wrapped an arm around his chest_. Stuttering in shock, Merlin croaked, “Ar-- Arthur?” but the only response was Arthur shifting in his sleep and throwing a leg over Merlin as well. Their feet entwined.

 _Oh God_ , Merlin choked to himself. This was weird, really, really weird... but also oddly comforting. He’d not been hugged to sleep since he was a boy, and only then by his mother. The contact of Arthur’s skin on his, and their mingled breath as Arthur nuzzled under his chin was cozy and warm. Merlin fought down a snort of laughter -- the discovery that Prince Arthur was a blanket-hogging, secret-snuggler could prove very useful in future.

With a small shrug, Merlin plucked his left arm out from between their bare, sticky chests, and twisted it around Arthur’s shoulders -- hugging him in tight.

 _This is nice_ , Merlin decided,  _nice, and not at all taking advantage of a sleeping prat_.

Arthur was snoring happily, and it really didn’t matter if Merlin thought he smelled delicious. It really didn’t matter if Merlin shivered at the tickle of Arthur’s breath against his throat. Nobody knew, and nobody ever would.

And besides,  _Arthur_  had started it.

  
(Arthur awoke to find a dribbling Merlin sprawled across his chest. Merlin’s hands were tucked under Arthur’s sweaty back and their feet had somehow locked together. Merlin’s face was plastered with a ridiculous grin. Needless to say, Arthur would not listen to Merlin’s spluttering proclamations of innocence, or his insistence that this was all just a very unfortunate series of coincidences. In Arthur’s mind, it was all Merlin’s fault -- just how everything hot, sticky and awkward always was.)


End file.
